To Be Alone
by KeyLimePie14
Summary: Their relationship was shifting. Was it inevitable? JanexMaura. Rating might go up in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I know I should be updating "Unsteady" but I got the idea for this instead. Hopefully part two of this will be up soon, and I will get to work on the next installment of "Unsteady".**

 **In the meantime, enjoy.**

* * *

" **To Be Alone"**

 **I:**

You walked into your office, closing the door behind you. You needed a minute alone to collect your thoughts and begin to process your emotions before even beginning to prepare for the day. You knew already that the day was going to prove difficult, mainly because of how it started – perhaps even because of how the night previous had ended, but you weren't quite sure. You tended to feel this way when you woke up alone after having fallen asleep with someone.

The night had begun much like many in the past – wine, movies, pizza (much to your constant dismay), and Jane. _Jane Rizzoli –_ your best friend.

She'd been there when you went to bed, right beside you, but when you'd awoken, all that remained of her was a note, torn haphazardly from a notebook that lay by your bedside, written in her sloppy scrawl, the letters lower and uppercase interchangeably. It read, "I'm sorry. See you at work. – J". She had said she was sorry. But for what you couldn't figure out. For loving you? Hadn't she admitted that she loved you? But how did she love you? She hadn't specified. For kissing you? She had, after all, brushed it off as a drunken mistake – you'd both had entirely too much to drink the night previous, something that you remembered by the pounding ache in your head. But she had, of course, agreed to stay the night after that mishap (was that really all it was?). So for what was she apologizing? You didn't know, but it was a thought that had been on your mind since you woke up to cold sheets instead of warm-blooded woman.

Now, you sat behind your desk and proceeded to fold your arms on top of it, your head resting within the safety of the walls you've built. If only the walls were around your heart. Maybe then you wouldn't have been in the place you are now, so off balance that not even meditation could have brought you back around. So shaken that it was visible in your eyes, in the bags below them, despite your night's sleep being more than decent (for at least half, you think, as you didn't know when Jane had slipped out). You weren't physically tired as much as mentally, that weight taking its toll on your body and your motivation for the day. You hadn't even stopped for breakfast, skipping it entirely.

A small knock came at your door, so softly that you almost didn't hear it at first. You looked up from your makeshift arm fort at the door. You said nothing, hoping if you didn't answer that whoever was at the door would just leave. You glanced at the clock on the wall; 7:58. You still had two minutes until you were officially the Chief Medical Examiner. That person could, and would if you had anything to say about it, wait.

Unfortunately, you couldn't be that lucky. Another sharp knock hit the door, and then a husky voice that you were not expecting to hear bellowed, "Maura! Open the damn door."

You stood quickly, running your hands down the front of your outfit to smooth any wrinkles and in four quick strides unlocked and opened the door to the lanky brunette who you hadn't seen since falling asleep the night before with her hand rubbing circles on your back.

"Yes, Jane?"

Jane leaned against the door frame, looking only slightly disheveled, "I figured I'd bring you a coffee," with this, she extended her arm and for the first time you noticed she was carrying two coffees, presumably one for you and one for her. Was she going to stay and drink it with you?

"Thank you, Jane," you took the cup from her hand, noticing that you were very careful to avoid contact. You assumed that Jane noticed as well because her eyebrows furrowed slightly, showing only slight discontent. "I appreciate it."

Jane nodded, her eyebrows still creasing slightly, "No problem, Maur. Call me if you get anything for me!" And with that, Jane Rizzoli was spinning on her heel as she swaggered to the elevator, leaving you in your doorway, holding a steaming hot cup of coffee.

R&IR&IR&IR&I

Over the next few days, you began to notice a change in Jane's behavior toward you. It was a decidedly unspoken turn, as you haven't brought attention to it. Why haven't you brought it up? Why have you allowed your friendship to go on without addressing the changes in your dynamic? Without addressing the fact that she kissed you? One that felt very much real and not a drunken mistake like Jane had claimed? You presume you haven't addressed it for fear of wat it would do to your friendship.

And besides all of that, you weren't sure how you felt about it, even after days passing. You weren't sure how you felt about Jane in general. Sure, you'd thought about what it would be like to kiss her, about what it would be like to be with her romantically. But it was always a fleeting thought, often spurred by the presence of Jane herself. Never had you dwelled on any of the thoughts.

Even now, you refused to focus on those thoughts, compartmentalizing them and doing all but throwing away the key. Those thoughts would do you no benefit, they would not benefit your relationship.

But still, you weren't sure exactly where you now stood with Jane. Despite vehemently ignoring the kiss, she had gotten much more physical with you than normal. This made you question her, and how well you actually knew her. It briefly made you question if she even remembered the kiss, but if she didn't remember then why would she have left you in the middle of the night? Surely, she remembered. Surely, she did. But with this truth, her actions made little sense. You could argue that sometimes Jane made very little sense to you, with past experiences being proof of that.

She had become even more open with physical touches, more than was normal between you and her. An extra brush of a hand during the passing of a coffee (one she bought you, from your favorite coffee shop – very much out of her own route to work), a lingering hug before leaving your home after having dinner together, unexplainable touches and long stares when she thought you weren't looking. All of this furthered your confusion and made it harder to keep your thoughts from drifting to what she could possibly be feeling, thinking.

It was a few weeks of this shifting that you were forced to endure before things finally seemed to come to a head. It was a Wednesday and you had plenty of work to do. You had multiple autopsies and Jane had caught a new homicide – three males that seemed to have been involved in a major drug ring, thus forcing Jane to work alongside the drug unit.

And Jane, on more than one occasion, had expressed her displeasure in working with the drug unit. And you presumed this is what brought her down to the morgue. She sat silently atop one of the empty morgue tables and watched you work.

After a few minutes, it began to unnerve you, how direct her gaze was on you. You laid down your scalpel and turned to face her expectantly.

She heaved a sigh and began to tell you about how frustrating this case was because the drug unit wasn't cooperating like she believed they should. You simply listened and nodded in all the right places, allowing her to vent her frustrations before she sighed and shook her head, "Sorry, Maur, I know you're busy." She stepped closer to you and allowed her fingertips to graze lightly down your arm, "I'll get out of your hair now."

You smiled at her, trying to hide your confusion and laced her fingers with yours, "You're always welcome, Jane. I don't mind."

Jane nodded and with a second's hesitation, a second of eye contact that showed her fierce emotions playing out behind her eyes, she leaned in and kissed you on the corner of your mouth. She paused there for a moment, her hot breath splashing against your face, and then her nose brushed against yours and all of a sudden she was kissing you. It wasn't urgent, like the last one had been, but it was soft and when you closed your eyes you almost felt like you'd imagined it.

You were letting her kiss you and you weren't pulling away.

She pulled away first, a deep crimson staining her cheeks as she stuttered over her words, backing away from you, "I'll uh," she rubbed at the back of her neck, "I'll uh, catch ya later, Maur." And with that she was once again retreating from you in a flash of dark curls.


	2. Chapter 2

" **To Be Alone"**

 **2:**

The next time it happened you were more prepared for it. You had begun to recognize the look in Jane Rizzoli's eyes right before she was going to kiss you. But really, you weren't sure how you felt about that. The kissing, or learning the signs that a kiss was about to happen.

It was a couple of weeks later and she'd invited you to lunch after solving a case that had kept you both busy for nearly all of those two weeks, with hardly any down time. You accepted her invitation and she met you in your office, escorting you to the door and out of the Boston Police Department. She drove, casting glances at you out of the corner of her eye the entire way.

You weren't quite sure why it unnerved you so, but you found yourself fidgeting and unable to sit still before finally blurting out, "Do I have something on my face?"

Jane flushed a little but laughed none the less, "No, Maur, you're fine."

You'd let it go at that. But still she kept throwing you glances, almost as if she was afraid you were going to disappear on her. _She does an awfully good job at that._ It had been weeks since the first time she kissed you and then fled in the night, but still neither of you had brought it up. Neither had you brought up the second kiss in the morgue, the one that was decidedly sober and purposeful. You were waiting for Jane to be the first to speak of it, though it seemed that she was doing the same. So it remained unspoken and it hadn't happened since.

Now, she parallel parked on the street and cut the engine before looking at you, "I know we haven't spent much time together these past couple of weeks, and I'm sorry."

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly, you had been just as busy as she, "You're sorry for what, Jane?"

She began to fidget, looking down and not quite meeting your eye, "I avoided you a little bit," she admitted, a pink stain forming on her cheeks.

"No, Jane, we were both busy. That case was a hard one to crack; it's understandable."

She opened her mouth to say more, but decided against it and shut her mouth, nodding, "well, it's over now. Let's get some lunch, huh?" She flashed you a smile and then slid out of the car, waiting patiently on the curb for you to join her.

You stepped up beside her, your heels making a soft click against the sidewalk as you stood before her, smiling, "Ready?"

Jane paused a moment, looking at you. She reached her hand out to grasp your wrist, tugging you slightly closer, "I really am sorry…for everything. I just…" she trailed off, swallowing visibly.

You blushed slightly, feeling as though a confession was about to arise, and you weren't quite sure how you felt about that. You still had yet to process how you felt about the shifting nature of your relationship and whether or not it was welcome or otherwise. You had yet to process why you let her kiss you – twice – and what that meant. Most importantly, you had yet to process how you felt about Jane or even how she felt about you. Surely, her kissing you meant something right? It was something new, not a normal fixture in your friendship even though she was trying to treat it as such.

It surely meant that she felt something more for you, didn't it?

"Maur, I've been a jerk," she tugged you ever closer, now your fronts were barely touching, "I mean, I kissed you. Twice."

That had been the last thing that you'd been expecting her to address. You hadn't expected for her to bring it up first; you'd just assumed that it would get to the point where you'd have to bring it up. But Jane Rizzoli was surprising you, as usual, and she looked only slightly pale.

"Jane, it's okay –." And then she was cutting you off again, this time with her lips. She was kissing you again and the only thoughts you could think were how soft her lips were and god, where did she learn to do that? You didn't even care that none of the issues had been addressed. Nor did you care that you were currently standing on the street, kissing your best friend (one who was very much female).

All that mattered was Jane.

She pulled away first, a look of frustration contorting her face as she drew a shaky hand through her wild hair, "Dammit, Maura… I'm sorry."

"Jane," You grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to look you in the eye, "Stop apologizing. I let you kiss me, didn't I?"

"What… what does this mean? I don't even know, I just… I just know that the urge to kiss you keeps getting stronger and…"

This time you initiated the kiss, your arms going around her waist and pulling her flush against you. You kept it soft, not deepening it further and pulled away slowly, "See? I let you."

"But… why? What does it mean?" She sounded slightly breathless and her cheeks were tinted pink. You smiled smugly to yourself.

"I don't know what it means, Jane, you're the one that keeps kissing me, remember?" You smirked at her childlike questioning. Though, you didn't know exactly what it meant either. But you weren't about to analyze it on the streets of Boston in the middle of the day.

"Come over tonight," you started, "We can talk, okay?"

Jane simply nodded, her eyes flicking to your lips, "Okay." And then you took hold of her elbow, leading her quietly into the restaurant, your head swirling with thoughts and emotions.

R&IR&IR&IR&IR&IR&IR&I

You listened quietly; you could hear the low rumble of traffic outside your bedroom window, you could hear birds chirping their morning song, you could hear the soft snore of the woman in bed next to you and you look down at her. She was curled up in your arms, fast asleep and drooling just a bit on your silk nightgown. You only giggled.

The night before had proven to be useless when it came to talking. Jane had shown up around 8 with a bottle of your favorite wine. She'd apologized once more for kissing you and not really having a reason for it. You knew why she kept kissing you – at the very least she was attracted to you.

Over the course of the day, after your rather exciting start to lunch, you'd put your brain to work in sorting out the puzzle that was Jane Rizzoli. You'd come to the conclusion that at the very least you were sexually attracted to your best friend, though you felt that it might've amounted to more than just sexual attraction. You were attracted to her mind, to her heart, to everything that made up Jane Rizzoli. But just how far did that attraction span?

Now, it was the next morning and you figured you were right about the sexual attraction between you and her. It was undeniable and with the added help of a bottle of wine split between you both (okay, you might've had just a tad more), you'd ended up kissing Jane square on the mouth, moving her toward your bedroom. Sure, it hadn't been your intent. Your intent had been to talk to Jane, and try to scope out the brunette's state of mind, but something about the way Jane looked, the way she talked, how she seemed to be even more nervous than you felt… It just seemed right (of course, you probably shouldn't have trusted an alcohol fogged brain).

You didn't regret having sex – ahem, making love – to Jane. It could only be defined as making love because of the way she'd revered your body, holding you close and kissing every inch of bare skin she could find. She nearly cradled you in her arms as she brought you to the point of bliss, acting like a pro at everything that was Maura Isles when she had no experience at all in this situation. But it was Jane. If she couldn't completely wing something and make it look easy, well, you laughed to yourself, she wouldn't be Jane.

Then it had been your turn, and though you felt as if you'd fumbled a few times, you were no less passionate about your endeavor than Jane had been. The bond between you both was mutual.

Now, in the morning light and with a slightly clearer head, you began to wonder if how you'd ended up was inevitable. You wondered if perhaps, this was the culmination of the past few weeks with Jane. She'd still never spoken of the first night, aside from addressing the kiss, never had she spoken of leaving your bed in the middle of the night. So when she'd ended up in your bed the night before, you half expected her to bolt. You looked down and smiled at the smooth face of the dark haired detective; maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was that she was totally satiated, but she'd stayed. And somehow that spoke volumes about the situation without her having to utter a word.

You weren't sure what scared you more, the fact that you had indeed made love to Jane Rizzoli or that she'd made love to you with the same amount of passion and, dare you even think it, the same amount of love. It made you uneasy and totally content, all at the same time and you sat there wondering just how that could be.


	3. Chapter 3

" **To Be Alone"**

 **3:**

It had been two days since you and Jane had wound up in bed together. Two days where she acted as if everything was fine and that nothing had changed or happened between you. She hadn't addressed it since waking that morning after.

You had been absentmindedly running your fingers through her dark curls, not realizing that she was beginning to stir. You looked down at her in time to see the confusion flash across her face at where she was, and then, slowly, the anguish. Much to your heart's dismay. You didn't know if it was because of what you'd done together or the fact that now she faced what could be a very awkward conversation with you. It didn't really matter; you'd been content upon waking and upon seeing Jane's open eyes you had felt uneasy.

She hadn't really said much, as you both awkwardly entangled from one another and dressed in silence, and then she'd suggested she make breakfast. To which you obliged, not really sure if it was because you were actually hungry or because you just needed some air, away from the tense fog that had seemed to settle between you both.

Luckily, that fog had lifted by the time you had gotten ready for work and ventured out to the smell of scrambled eggs and turkey bacon. And that fog hadn't settled upon you two since then, but that, you figured, was due to the fact that Jane was avoiding being alone with you as if she would catch the plague. And despite your efforts to do otherwise and get her to talk, she had been very successful at making sure there was always at least one other person around.

Until now, that is. You smirked smugly to yourself as you peered into the Division One Café and saw Jane standing alone, refilling her coffee cup. There was no one else within hearing distance of her, the waitress on duty, Clarise, was on the other end of the café wiping down tables. It was getting late in the afternoon, around 4, and most on duty were getting ready to punch out for the day.

You took this opportunity for what it was and strode into the café confidently, much more confidently than you felt, and sidled up next to Jane, bumping your shoulder to hers playfully, "Hi, Jane."

She jumped, almost spilling her coffee down the front of her t-shirt before turning to look at you wearily, "Hi." You noticed the slight bags under her eyes, despite not having a case, and how she looked at you as if you were a predator and she was the prey.

"I was just passing by and… I noticed you," You stepped a half step away from her in the hopes that it would help to calm her nerves, "And I think we need to talk."

"…About what?" She brought her coffee cup to her lips, trying to hide her unease. Jane never was one for talking about emotions or conflicts. It usually came to this – you prying information out of her.

"Jane," You tilted your head slightly, crossing your arms in front of your chest, "I think you already know what."

Jane sighed then, running a hand through her curls (just like she always did when she was nervous), and glanced around, "Okay, but not here." She grabbed your elbow gently and led you to the elevator. She punched the button and the doors slid open. Without a word, she ushered you inside and then pushed the button to temporarily shut down the elevator, basking both of you in pale light coming from the emergency light above.

"Look, Maura-."

"Jane, I-." You both began speaking at the same time. You laughed, breaking some of that familiar fog that settled over you again. "Jane…" She let you begin, as she'd found a thread at the hem of her shirt that was suddenly fascinating. You reached your hand out and covered hers, "You know we couldn't avoid this forever."

She looked up at you, her eyes catching yours and she smiled shyly, "Yeah, yeah… You're right. I know. I'm sorry, Maur."

"Sorry for what, Jane?"

"For all of this," she waved her hand around in the air, "For kissing you, multiple times, for sneaking out of your place that one night," She cringed, realizing how badly that sounded, and you smiled at her, encouraging her to continue, "And… for getting so drunk that we ended up in bed together. I'm just… I'm sorry."

You pulled her hand into yours, lacing your fingers together. Your eyebrows furrowed and you stared at your interlaced hands quietly for a moment, "I'm not sure I understand."

Over the past few days, you've given a lot of thought to the matter. After you and Jane made love, you'd thought long and hard about what she meant to you. You'd already come to the conclusion that you were sexually attracted to her, but upon further inquiry found that there were many times when you'd thought yourself to be attracted to more than that. You'd realized that many of your encounters resulted in flirting, from both parties, and that was undeniable. Especially now, as she stood before you, you felt a pull at your heart and a sinking feeling in your gut at her words, _she was sorry?_ But for what? For having kissed you? For having made love to you?

"I'm sorry, Maura, that I let all of this happen. I mean, I don't know why I kissed you the first time, even. I never should have done that, and even now, I don't know how you feel about all of that," she waved her hand around again, dismissively, as she prattled on, tugging harder and harder at your sinking heart with each word, "I'm sorry. We should just forget it ever happened. I value your friendship too much to let it come between us, Maur."

"I… Don't want to forget it, Jane. It happened and we were both _willing_ participants. Maybe not for the first kiss, but when we _made love,_ were you not there? Because I was!" Hot tears pricked your eyes, your emotions coming so hard and fast that you couldn't hold them back with the usual wall you erected to prevent scenarios like this. "I was there! And I don't know about you, Jane, but these past few weeks have been _so_ confusing for me. At first I was hurt, not because you kissed me, but because you kissed me and then fled… with just a note telling me you're sorry. Maybe you should stop being sorry, Jane, and actually talk to me before making up my mind for me." You deflated slightly upon seeing her dejected face. Her shoulders had slumped considerably and she looked as if she was worn out. You frowned, tugging her closer to you. You gently tucked an errant curl behind her ear and stroked her cheek softly, "Jane, I don't want to forget this."

"If…," she began tentatively, as though she were choosing her words carefully, "We don't forget this, then… what does that mean, Maura?" She flicked her eyes up to meet yours and held your gaze. The depth and questioning in her eyes caused you to hitch your breath.

You paused a moment, just drinking her in, before you replied, "It means we explore this. Would that be something you want, Jane?" You continued stroking her cheek, the soft skin just in front of her ear, and leaned closer to her so that now your noses brushed one another.

"I…Yeah," she breathed out, eyes now focused solely on your lips.

You nodded, closing the distance and capturing her lips with yours in a soft kiss. Pulling away, you smiled, "Okay, then we'll take it one step at a time."

She smiled back, her eyes livening up as she did so, and she closed the gap once more.


	4. Chapter 4

" **To Be Alone"**

 **4:**

Despite things being fine between the two of you, you still couldn't say that you knew exactly what the brunette woman was thinking half the time. Over the past few weeks, you'd been with Jane most nights of the week, regardless of the hour that you both managed to squeeze away from the precinct. Sometimes she would come to your house, bottle of wine in hand (there was rarely a sip taken from it), and sometimes you would show up to hers after work. To be alone with Jane now meant more than it used to.

As much as you were enjoying this development with Jane, and as satisfying as it was, you craved for more than sex from her.

After the first time you slept together, you'd been slowly realizing that your feelings for Jane went deeper than you ever could have imagined. You predicted that kissing your best friend (multiple times) and making love to her would bring those feelings about. But you weren't sure if they were the cause or just the awakening to feelings that already existed. Perhaps you would never know (but not without trying on your part); all you knew was that you were falling, hard, for Jane Rizzoli and all of her magnificent beauty and charm.

The next time you were alone with Jane, as hard as it was, you pushed her off of you gently, pressing her back against your front door. You both stood barefooted, you with your blouse untucked from its skirt and she with lipstick dotting her jaw. She'd shown up not even ten minutes ago, but you hadn't gotten further than letting her in before her lips were attached to yours. As delightful as kissing Jane was, you had already made up your mind that it was time to talk and get some real answers, something you and your newfound feelings could work with instead of just giving in to the physical pleasure like you had been doing.

"Jane…" You breathed out, closing your eyes for a moment as your lungs refilled, catching up from being deprived, "Jane… We need to talk."

Jane slithered around you so that her back was no longer against the door and she stood beside you, her fierce eyes piercing the side of your face. You glanced over at her and just stared for a moment, taking her in from head to toe, your eyes finally settling on hers. The darkened pupils of her eyes made you shiver slightly.

"Jane, please," You moved into the living room and took a seat at the couch, hearing her shuffled steps behind you, "I just…"

Jane sat down across from you, her upper body turned in your direction, confusion marking her hazy eyes and forehead in its crinkle. You wanted to reach across and smooth the lines in her forehead. To make her confusion go away, you kept talking, "I… know I said this didn't need a label, that it could just _be_ , but I…"

"Maur," her voice sounded choked, "Maura, I…" She trailed off, staring down at her hands and frowning.

After giving her a moment to regain her thought, and seeing that she wasn't going to, you continued, "Jane, I think I have feelings for you. And I don't want that to ruin what we have, but, doing this…thing we've been doing, I… just felt it necessary you know how I feel. This has been wonderful, and exploring more to our relationship… I'm glad it happened but, I think… I need more than just sex."

During your speech, Jane's head popped up and her eyes widened slightly, all confusion replaced with shock. You could feel your heart beating in your ears, the sound drowning out any thought. Jane sat silently, eyeing you for a moment, "Maur, I don't know…" She swallowed, taking one of your hands between hers, "I don't know if I can… be what you want."

You pulled your hand from hers, the hurt stabbing into your chest and twisting, making it hard to breathe, "Oh."

"Maur, I'm sorry. Look, you don't want someone like me. You deserve so much more," she ran a hand through her hair, "I think maybe we let this go on too long. I'm sorry, we should've stopped a long time ago." She stood up, still eyeing you sadly, "I'm… I've gotta go." Despite her words, she still leaned down to kiss you on the top of the head as she made her way to the front door, slipping on her shoes and grabbing her coat and keys that had been haphazardly discarded in your flurry of passion and then you heard the soft click of the door as she exited.

Immediately, you let out the breath you hadn't been aware you were holding and cried.

R&IR&IR&IR&IR&I

It was exactly two days later, ones that passed without any contact between you and Jane, that she showed up at your door. You had been in the kitchen, making a cup of tea when the loud commotion at the door startled you. You looked up to find Jane stumbling through the door, mumbling about locks and keys. You knew from her stance that she was very much drunk; immediately you were alarmed. Jane drank, often, but very rarely was she drunk. In fact, you'd only had a handful of experiences with a drunken Jane and none of them were all too pleasurable. She was very much a messy drunk.

"Maur," she grabbed hold of the counter to balance herself as she made her way toward you. Clumsily, she pulled the cup of tea out of your hands and with a clatter set it down on the counter, tea sloshing out of the sides, "Maur, hi."

You forced a small hesitant smile and put your hand on her upper arm, steadying her, "Jane, what are you doing? You're drunk; how did you get here? Please tell me you didn't drive."

Jane shook her head, leaning in closer to you. Her breath smelled strongly of beer and her eyes were dilated and unfocused. You moved your free hand up to rest on her hip, as you discreetly tried to create some distance between you and her, "Maur, listen," she tried to stand upright, blinking a few times, "Listen to me!"

"Jane, I'm listening," you tried to placate her, your thumb rubbing circles on her hip, riding her tshirt up to expose smooth skin, "C'mon, I'll make you some tea. Go sit."

Jane shook her head, pulling away from you completely as she slammed her fist onto the table, "I don't wanna sit." She paused, her eyebrows furrowing deeply in concentration, "Maur, listen… 'M sorry, kay?"

You nodded, not sure what else to do as you waited for her to continue.

"'M sorry, I was a jerk. You don't des'rve me," her lower lip began to quiver slightly. You moved closer to her, your heart breaking slightly at the sight of the woman before you looking so sad. You brought your thumb up to brush along her lower lip, moving down to her chin, as you cupped her cheek.

"Jane, shh… It's okay, you don't have to be sorry." At this, she flung her arms around you and buried her head in your shoulder. You soon felt wet, hot tears staining your shirt and you tightened the embrace, rocking gently back and forth, whispering in Jane's ear soothingly.

"Maura, I love you, you know?" She nuzzled your neck and began peppering hot kisses along your collarbone, "I just really love you and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Your breath caught in your throat for a moment as you allowed her to kiss you, before nodding and smiling softly to yourself, "I know, Jane, I know."


End file.
